


Blood and Lust

by Luigi_Luigi



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Murder Husbands, idk what this is, its short thats what it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 21:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17516555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luigi_Luigi/pseuds/Luigi_Luigi
Summary: Will has a nightmare and tries not to think about things.





	Blood and Lust

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Benny. Even here. Unless you never look at this. Then I'm just talking to myself again.

He awakes with a gasp. He jerks himself upright, his breath just short of wheezing. Sweat clings to his skin, cold, and he shivers. As he waits for his eyes to adjust to the dark he notices the sound of rain. 

He doesn’t feel awake. 

A hand slowly creeps up his back and he lets out a breath. His throat feels dry.

“Will?”

Hannibal speaks gently, but his voice is still rough from sleep. Will dips his head down. He always feels guilty when he wakes the other man with his restlessness. Except when he remembers that half the nightmares are because of Hannibal. He doesn’t like to think about that though. 

Hannibal tugs at Will’s shoulder, pulling his trembling frame to lean against his own broad chest. Will lets him smooth his damp hair out of his face, busy focusing on breathing. These nights are rare now, but occasionally they continue to occur. 

A sense of guilt. The feeling of splattered blood. A sickening scent of sweetness. Will does not like to think about past happenings. He resents the pain it had brought him, still brings him. It confuses him. Makes him disoriented in the darkness. 

Will can’t step backwards. At this point he doesn’t want to anyways, but the nightmares remain. Hannibal cannot quell them, though he tries. The man presses a kiss to his temple. Will blinks. 

“I’m… I need a drink.” He says. His voice sounds strained. 

Hannibal rises from the bed. He takes hold of Will’s arm and carefully assists him off the mattress. They walk down the hallway to the kitchen. Will attempts to keep from leaning too heavily on Hannibal, but the man pulls him close and Will feels like his legs are going to give out at any moment. 

He’s set down at the table, Hannibal continuing over to the cupboards. Will stares dumbly at the wood surface in front of him. He wasn’t quite sure why his dreams leave him such a paralyzed state. By now he’s done worse than what his mind tries to pathetically conjure. Sometimes he wonders if something is wrong with him. Of course, that train of thought leads to more unpleasant answers and memories. 

So he doesn’t dwell on it. Instead, he takes the cool cup of water that Hannibal gently places in front of him and drinks from it with large, desperate gulps. He only pauses to take a breath and stop the cold, squeezing feeling in his chest. Hannibal sits to the side of him and watches him with calm observation. 

“Don’t stare at me.” Will mutters. Hannibal gives him a faint smile.

“How can I look away from such beauty?”

The comment is playful, however the place Will’s mind is currently occupying is only making him think of something he’d rather not be reminded of. He doesn’t know what encephalitis smells like, but Hannibal told him it was sweet. The man always seemed to be able to find the sweetness in most things dark and unpleasant. 

“I look terrible, Hannibal.” Will says. “I feel terrible.”

Hannibal reaches forward and brushes a stray lock of hair away from Will’s eyes. Again, Will notices the faint patter of rain. He turns his gaze to the window. Hannibal had not turned on any of the lights, the moon being the only thing allowing him to see through the dark. The rain shimmers in it.

“I want to go outside.”

“It’s raining.” Hannibal comments. 

“I know.”

Will rises from the table and wanders to the back door, which is conveniently located right by the kitchen. He steps out onto the patio, ignoring the small puddles gathering on the chilled brick, and continues out to the wet grass. He’s going to get mud all over the house when he goes back inside. Hannibal will end up being the one cleaning it up. 

Will tilts his head back, eyes closed, letting the rain wash over him. 

  
  



End file.
